


A Cat May Look At a King

by The_Plaid_Slytherin



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Cat Owner Davos Seaworth, Cats, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Future Fic, M/M, Stannis Baratheon Owned By a Cat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-25 11:17:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18260198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Plaid_Slytherin/pseuds/The_Plaid_Slytherin
Summary: Davos adopts a cat and Stannis must learn to share.





	A Cat May Look At a King

Davos found the cat in the ruins of the Tower of the Hand the afternoon Stannis' Northern army took the Red Keep. It was shivering in the still-falling snow. Stannis was certain the capital was full of cats in similar situations, but he also sensed this was more than just about the cat.

_At least this is one life he can save_ , Stannis thought, as he watched Davos pick his unsteady way down the pile of rubble. The cat was cradled like an infant in his arms. Stannis hoped for Davos' sake that it would indeed live.

"I couldn't leave it, Your Grace," Davos said apologetically. He was wrapping the cat in his cloak. 

"Certainly," Stannis said, for he felt he had no right to tell Davos what to do.

For the first few weeks Stannis occupied the Iron Throne, the cat occupied a box in front of the fire in the bedchamber Stannis was determined he and Davos would share. Davos was up often in the night, disturbing Stannis' slumber to nurse the cat. Stannis was not truly bothered, however, as he got little sleep as it was, and Davos made every effort to return to bed carefully. His greatest annoyance was Davos' cold feet, but they were soon warm again as he held his Hand in his arms, grateful for their reunion after two long years. 

Stannis paid little mind to the cat, though he found himself staring at it one morning when he woke before Davos. It was white with black splotches, and the way it was tucked carefully in a box with a blanket and saucer of milk dredged up old memories of Proudwing. Perhaps Davos' impulse was not so foreign after all. _May his endeavor come to a more fruitful end than did mine_ , he thought, before dragging himself away to dress.

One evening, Stannis returned to their apartments to find Davos seated by the fire, the cat in his lap. 

"Good evening, sire," Davos said. His gaze was fond and fixed firmly at the cat, not, to Stannis' chagrin, at his king and lover. 

"The cat seems to fare better of late," Stannis said diplomatically. "You've taken good care of it."

"She _is_ much better," Davos said. "And her name is Inkblot. Her markings put me in mind of them."

Kings did not ordinarily concern themselves with the names of cats, but if they did, Stannis would have thought it an absurd one. Surely Davos, who had had such a long career of smuggling, had more creativity in him than that. 

Foolish name or no, Inkblot made a fine companion for Davos. They made a very cozy picture in the armchair that had become theirs (Inkblot invariably occupied it in Davos' absence, especially when Davos placed a folded blanket on the seat), listening faithfully when Stannis read aloud of an evening. Stannis did not mind, so long as Inkblot remained in Davos' lap and not his, and so long as she remained clear of their bed. 

He was obliged to relent on that last point when one last campaign in the Riverlands took him away from Davos' side for a few weeks.

"I do not mind," Davos told him as they said their good-byes. "I will miss you, but I won't be alone." He kissed him. "I shall have Shireen… and Inkblot." 

Stannis decided to take comfort in that as he mounted up and rode out of the Red Keep. It allowed him to worry less about leaving Davos alone, for Davos could occupy himself with Inkblot's care as well as sitting the throne in Stannis' absence. 

_Perhaps I will be alone in my longing._

That was not the case, fortunately, as Davos welcomed him home with restraint at the castle gates that became something altogether different once they were alone.

As soon as the door to the royal apartments was shut, Davos was in his arms, kissing him enthusiastically. Stannis was just to the point of losing himself in his lover when something began twining its way about his feet. Stannis looked down. Inkblot was standing on his boots, looking up at him with an expression (if Stannis believed cats capable of complex thought) that seemed to say, _What are you doing back? I thought you had gone for good._

"Inkblot," chided Davos, "do not stand on Stannis' feet. He mislikes it."

Inkblot twitched her tail and moved off, but Stannis got the strong sense that his place had been usurped (and that Inkblot saw this as only her due).

At least Davos shut the door firmly when they adjourned to the bedroom.

"I assure you that I did not let her on the bed." He paused. "Often."

"No matter. It is your prerogative. I wasn't here and the nights are cold."

Davos smiled. "Not anymore."

Their lovemaking was as sweet as ever Stannis had hoped their reunion would be, even sweeter to know that his throne was totally secure. He soon slipped into a blissful sleep, Davos' arms and their feather bed a far cry from the damp camp bed he had lately occupied.

Stannis woke with a mouthful of fur. 

"Davos," he sputtered. "Get this creature off my face." 

"Your Grace!" cried Davos, and Stannis decided not to remind him that he needn't use such titles when they were in bed together. A Hand ought to be sufficiently deferential to his king when his cat attempted regicide. "I'm so sorry." He carried Inkblot unceremoniously into the sitting room and shut the door. "She will have to learn her place."

"No matter." Stannis felt his face. It seemed to have emerged unscathed, though he had certainly felt the tips of her claws. "I have never heard that cats can be trained." _Which is why they should be relegated to the barnyard in favor of more useful animals. Hawks, for instance._

Stannis was a wise enough man not to say this out loud, however. 

**

Stannis was so glad to be back home with Davos that he could forgive the cat—for a time, at least. 

One day, he was contentedly preparing for bed, wanting nothing more than to blow out the light and find his way to Davos. He had had an exhausting day dealing with fools and he needed to relax. He washed his face, cleaned his teeth, and pulled on his nightshift, though he would soon be taking it off.

Then he went to get in bed. 

Inkblot was sitting on his side of the bed.

"Now, see here, cat." Stannis crouched at eye level. "This is my bed and Davos'. That is where we sleep. That is your bed." He pointed to the cat basket on the hearth which Davos had gone to the trouble of purchasing, along with all manner of frivolities for her amusement. "That is where you sleep."

Inkblot licked her paw and began to wash her face.

"Stannis, I don't think she can understand you."

"No doubt she will better understand this." Stannis lifted Inkblot at arm's length, loathing the way her body sagged. He carried her over to her bed, set her gently down in it, and went back over to his bed. He got into it quickly and pulled the curtains on his side. 

The next few weeks resulted in a sort of truce. Inkblot respected Stannis' side of the bed and his chair, though she sometimes slept on Davos' side of the bed, if not too often. Aside from occasionally tripping over her (which he was convinced was deliberate) they managed to share Davos. At least Stannis had not seen a single mouse in his apartments since her arrival. 

Some time after their truce, Stannis returned to their quarters to find Davos crouched on the floor, twitching a piece of fluff on a string for Inkblot. 

He cleared his throat. "Davos, I have a task for you."

"Of course, sire." Davos rose, and Inkblot regarded Stannis with some annoyance.

"I want nothing less than to send you away," he began. He put his hands on Davos' shoulders and squeezed. "You know that, I trust?"

"I do." Davos' hands came up to rest on Stannis'. 

"But I fear I must. I have received an envoy from Braavos and etiquette requires I send one in return. You would be more appropriate than if I were to send my uncle or someone else."

Davos nodded, though Stannis could read the hesitancy in his eyes. "I will do what I must, Your Grace."

"Don't call me that." Stannis kissed him. "Your king sends you, but your lover will miss you."

"And I will miss you." 

Their embrace was interrupted by a head butting Stannis' leg.

"I'll take care of her in your absence." The words left Stannis' mouth before he could think too hard about them. Davos looked relieved.

"Thank you, Stannis."

The next few weeks were taken up by preparations. With his council, Stannis prepared Davos for his trip; in their apartments, Davos prepared Stannis to take care of Inkblot.

"You must keep her water dish filled," Davos said. "And she likes fish. She likes all manner of meat, and she will hunt for herself, but the kitchens usually save her some fish. And she does love cream. For a special treat." 

Stannis wondered if it would look silly if he went for a quill and parchment at this point to make notes.

"Her favorite toys are her mouse and her blue ball." Stannis listened to this, with no intention of distinguishing between Inkblot's three (at least) balls. How had Davos decided she preferred blue? 

"I can ask one of the servants to come in and do it," Davos said cautiously. "If you would rather not. The serving maids do love her, as does Shireen."

"No." Now Stannis regarded it as a challenge. If he could rule a kingdom, he could take care of a cat. "I will do it."

"Thank you." Davos kissed him. Then he picked up Inkblot. "I will miss you, too." He rubbed noses with her. Then she licked his mouth and Stannis was glad he had already kissed him. 

Inkblot seemed to know Davos was gone, for when Stannis returned from bidding him good-bye at the docks, Inkblot was sitting in the center of the rug, glaring at him. 

_No_ , Stannis told himself. _Cats cannot glare._

Inkblot's tail twitched. _You sent my person away_ , she seemed to say. _And you are a poor substitute._

"Be that as it may, we must do without Davos for a few months. For his sake, I hope we can strive to get along with each other in that time." He filled her water dish and set her blue ball at her feet. Then he went to his desk to work. 

A moment later, the ball rolled against his boot. Stannis looked down at Inkblot, who was looking at him expectantly. "Here." He kicked it back. Inkblot batted it back at him.

Had she done this with Davos? Stannis had never noticed. He had only seen her playing with it by herself, batting it around and chasing it. He kicked it past her and she darted after it. 

Was this normal cat behavior? Or was it extraordinary cleverness?

Stannis and Inkblot fell into something of a routine. She accompanied him to his solar when he worked (for the bright patches of sunlight, he decided, rather than for his company) and she always trotted back to his chambers at his heels when he was finished. 

She also seemed to favor scratching a table that Cersei had installed in the royal apartments rather than any pieces from Stannis' family or the Targaryens. He had only to tell her once, "No. That belonged to my lady mother," and she left the couch alone.

"Inkblot," Stannis said one day, "I have a conundrum."

She looked up. She was in the middle of the rug, her mouse in her mouth, a silly creation of Shireen's which was two pieces of gray felt stitched together. 

Stannis instantly felt foolish having spoken aloud to the cat, but now that he had begun, he would finish. "My uncle Lomas has written to me of a land dispute within the Stormlands and I am obliged to settle such matters until Shireen should come of age when I intend to give her Storm's End." 

Inkblot dropped her mouse, padded over to Stannis' desk and leapt onto it. 

"I believe the Selmys are only making a fuss because Blackhaven had only a distant relation for its heir. He is half-Dornish and that bad blood runs deep." 

Inkblot watched him. She seemed to be listening. Stannis scratched behind her ears and went on. 

"The Stormlands depend on Harvest Hall for food, but they depend on Blackhaven for defense, and while I might be king of all Westeros—well, I am Stormlands born and bred and the Selmys have served my family for years."

Inkblot watched him, tail twitching. He continued petting her. 

"Yes, they _have_ been farming a portion of that land during the war, but they had encroached upon it while there was no Lord of Blackhaven and I was away North. During that time, Storm's End was under siege by Lannisters and there was no one in a position to settle such disputes." 

Inkblot looked down at the map, her paw sweeping over Harvest Hall. 

"Do you mean to suggest I let them keep the lands?" 

Inkblot stared right back at him, yellow eyes intense. 

"Yes," he said slowly, "with winter on, they do need the farmland. And the new Lord of Blackhaven will not miss the lands. Uncle Lomas says he would probably be relieved to have less to manage. He is a fine warrior, though, and will defend the borders well." Stannis ran a hand over his head. "I would not have thought of that without you."

Inkblot then sprawled on the map and began licking herself. 

With Inkblot for company, the time without Davos seemed to fly by. Inkblot was his constant shadow as he moved through the castle. 

"Do not let me catch you with that mangy old tom," he told her as they passed by a window outside of which a cat watched them. "You could make a better match. One of the court ladies must keep a male cat."

He felt strangely protective of her. Perhaps it was because she was Davos' cat which he had to keep safe until his lover returned. He even took to letting her sit in his lap, and was exceptionally pleased when he first made her purr. He had his daughter and Devan for company, of course, but there was something nice about talking to Inkblot, who understood how much he missed Davos. 

As the time appointed for Davos' return drew nearer, Stannis' anticipation grew. 

"We haven't long to wait now, Inkblot," Stannis told her. She was perched on an end table, supervising, as he reached beneath the cabinet to retrieve the small collection of toys she had gradually amassed beneath it.

"Your Grace! My father's ship was sighted!" Devan Seaworth came to a halt just inside the doorway. He stared for several moments at Stannis, in up to his shoulder, his fingers just grazing Inkblot's ball. 

Stannis felt a surge of warmth in his chest which covered any embarrassment he might have felt at being seen by his squire in this position. He had missed Davos so much he could hardly stand it, a feeling that was only intensified by the fact that their reunion was imminent. 

"Thank you, Devan," he said, extracting his arm and tossing Inkblot her ball. He stood, brushing off his breeches, as though the lad had seen nothing out of the ordinary. "We must prepare for your lord father's arrival. Have Ser Richard gather a party of men. I must see to my own preparations."

Stannis knew he would have to work quickly. If Davos' ship was in sight of land, it would not be two hours before she was docked, and Davos would be ushered ashore with the priority befitting his station. For his part, Stannis would be obligated to dress in something frivolous and ride down with a party to greet him. The last part was the only one that made it worth it. 

"Now," Stannis said, as she watched him from her perch on the bed (his bed) "we must see to you."

He wanted to show Davos how much diligence he had shown in Inkblot's care. He had not just done the bare minimum, as he'd assumed he would when his lover had left. He'd seen how Davos had spent time grooming Inkblot (even though she seemed quite capable of doing it himself), and now was the time for him to undertake this task. 

Inkblot seemed to know what he was planning and shot under the bed. 

"Come on." Stannis got down on his hands and knees and reached for her, but she backed away from him. Stannis slid over the bed, dropped down on Davos' side, and grabbed her.

"You will like this," he said firmly. "You like when Davos does it." 

Perhaps it was his imagination, but she seemed to understand Davos' name, because she stilled and allowed him to brush her fur. She soon fell to purring. She looked much healthier with her shiny coat than the bedraggled creature she had been when Davos had pulled her from the rubble. 

"Now, let me present you with your gift." From the package on his bureau, Stannis took the collar he had commissioned. He was pleased with the leatherwork, as well as the engraving of her name on the tag. He had not even felt too silly when he'd told the smith he needed it to say _Inkblot._ "Perhaps I am getting used to your name," he told her. _  
_  
Inkblot butted her head against his face.

He did not bring her with him to the dock. That, he decided, would be excessive. Instead, he stood as a king should and waited for Davos to come to him, kneel, and kiss his ring.

"Welcome home, Lord Davos," he said.

"I am pleased to be here, sire." Davos rose at Stannis' command and greeted Devan and Shireen. The royal party then mounted up to return to the Red Keep. Stannis longed to get Davos alone, but he had to settle for watching him as they rode up Aegon's Hill. 

Davos did not look substantially different, not that Stannis had expected him to, but the picture in his mind's eye was lacking several details that he savored in the real thing. A smile line around his mouth, the way he kept brushing back one stray lock of hair when it fell forward in front of his face.

He waited impatiently while Davos moved through the obligatory greetings of the small council, keeping his hands jammed in his belt so he would not be tempted to grab Davos by the hand and drag him off. 

At long last, Davos excused himself and Stannis followed, though he did not give in to his impulse until the door was safely barred. He had only to turn away from doing this to have Davos in his arms.

"Stannis, I missed you." 

"I missed you, too." Stannis wrapped his arms securely around Davos, and they stood like that for a long while, until they were interrupted by a soft meow.

Davos turned. "Hello, Inkblot. I missed you, too. How did you and Stannis get on?"

Stannis tamped down the ridiculous flare of jealousy. "Let her show you."

Davos crouched down and Inkblot trotted eagerly to him. "Look at you. Who could have given you this?" He rose with the cat in his arms, eyes on her collar. 

Stannis lifted his head proudly. "I thought she ought to have something befitting her station as cat to the Hand of the King."

Davos smiled fondly. "I thought you might have become fond of her."

"She was company," Stannis allowed. "As I recall she was for you when I was on campaign."

"Did she give you much trouble?"

"None at all." Inkblot seemed to have settled happily back in Davos' arms; she was purring already, something Stannis had taken many hours to achieve. 

"Good." Davos scratched Inkblot indulgently under her chin. "And I must thank _you_ for looking after Stannis in my absence."

"Davos." Stannis cleared his throat. 

"Yes, sire?" 

"Put that animal down and come to bed."

It was entirely without grace, but it was effective. Davos smiled and set Inkblot gently on the floor, then took Stannis' hand and led him into the bedroom.

**

When Stannis opened his eyes several hours later, a wave of satisfaction rushed over him. Davos was tucked into his side, his head resting on Stannis' shoulder, his hair tickling Stannis' nose. Stannis shifted slightly. He was trying not to wake Davos while preserving this feeling in his mind. One thing he knew for sure—he would not let Davos leave again. He was through with being parted from him, and if the time ever came for him to travel, they would do it together.

"Stannis?"

Stannis opened his eyes. Davos using his name never failed to fill him with raw affection. _I am a fool in love_ , he thought. 

"Yes?" He passed his hand over Davos' hair. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't." Davos pushed himself up to kiss Stannis, allowing the sheet to fall away tantalizingly. "I think I am awake for a time."

Stannis kissed him back, allowing himself to be drawn into Davos' warmth, but when they were finished, Davos fell back onto his pillow, a contented smile on his face. "Forgive me, Stannis, I just want to lie here with you." 

"Of course. Are you hungry?" Stannis regretted not having asked Davos this earlier. 

"I am sure I will be. But for now—" Davos was interrupted by a scratching at the door. "What—?" He sat up. 

Stannis rose from the bed and threw on his robe. He was about to call out that he had given instruction that he was not to be disturbed when he heard the meow. 

Stannis sighed and opened the door. Inkblot trotted in as though she had been expected, leapt onto the bed, and curled up next to Davos. Davos smiled. 

"This is pleasant, too," he said, as he petted her. 

Stannis slid into bed without a word. He kept his robe on. It was not out of shame, but she had already scratched his face and he didn't want any of his more delicate parts exposed. He put his arm around Davos' shoulders. 

"She seemed very ready to get in our bed," Davos said. "I would have thought you would have been quite insistent on her using her own."

Stannis made a noncommittal grunt. "She is an independent-minded animal and makes her own choices." He reached over to scratch between her ears. "I found her to be uncommonly clever, actually."

"Did you?"

"She would come to work with me." Stannis felt slightly silly admitting it out loud, but he didn't think he wanted their daily sojourns to end. After all, why should Inkblot be deprived of that sunny patch on the floor of the king's solar? "I did find her a comfort when you weren't with me."

Davos only smiled. 

"Smugness is unbecoming, Davos."

"Forgive me, sire." Davos kissed his cheek. "I am only glad you and she got along in my absence."

Inkblot looked up at Stannis as though she really could understand human speech. 

"I suppose we did," he said. 

Inkblot twitched her whiskers, looking as surprised as Stannis felt.


End file.
